The Taming of the Shrews
by You're All So Vacant
Summary: Sherlock and Sally are always arguing, so it's up to John and Lestrade to find a Solution. And apparantly, happy people are less likely to pick fights. Funny eh? Sherlock/John. Sally/ Lestrade. Two-shot. Please Review!
1. Chapter 1

The Taming of the Shrews 

A/N This will be a two-shot, three shot at most. This is the problem, the other chapter(s) will be the solution *simples*

Act 1- The Problem

"Freaks gone. 'Bout bloody time, too. He's really starting to piss me off. And the puppy following after, encouraging him."

"Yes, but you do know why he was here, don't you?"

"Because he's a psychopath, and he's bored. I have worked here for the last five years, you know. I know Freak's motives."

"I do know. I'm the guy that hired you, even though you turned up late, hung-over _and _was the person who ran into my car the night before. Just like I'm the guy who calls Sherlock, despite the fact that my entire team fail to civil with him."

She stood back a little, quietened. She had never forgotten about that, they just never mentioned it.

"Yes, well. Why did you?"

"I could see how well you ran even whilst drunk. After you hit my car, I saw you carry on running and take out the guy who had stolen that package. I knew you were the right person to make a good officer. Just like I knew he would make a excellent detective. And he didn't just turn up. I called him here to help, Donovan, so stop complaining about him."

"You call him here to help with the case, despite everything. Not so he can insult everyone on our team and comment on everyone's personal lives."

"Oh, deal with it. So he knows you slept with Anderson. We all know that , he's the only one to comment. The rest of us just didn't see any point in mentioning it."

"Cheers, boss. Can you do nothing to stop him?"

"Nope. You just need to learn to deal with it. Stop calling him 'freak', you never know what might happen."

Sally Donovan gave a rather un-lady-like snort, and left Lestrade's office, slamming the door behind her.

*_* Scene change/ Page Break *_*

Sherlock had confidently stalked up to the crime scene, John Watson attempting -and succeeding- to keep up with him. Lestrade had texted, and as a result, a very excited Sherlock had dragged John from work, cheerfully exclaiming to Sarah that they had a very important date, and mustn't be late.

She had not been amused, but excused them both, only for fear of them brining something lethal to the doctors' practice. It wouldn't be very good for business. _'Hi, I'm a doctor, here to help, but that man to your left is a Chinese serial killer'. _Yeah, wouldn't go down well.

The minute they had gotten within sight of that yellow and black tape John had known that Sherlock was going to be difficult.

Sherlock's expression at seeing both Donovan and Anderson there was enough to make John pray to god that the case was complex enough to keep him even momentarily entertained. No such luck.

It was easy, too easy. To Sherlock, it counted as a wasted cab fare. They walked for all of about two minutes before Sherlock had rummaged through the pockets of the victim, without wearing the gloves.

He had been right, as per usual, and found the killer from a receipt in the pocket of the man's black jeans.

Both of them were then preparing to leave, but the lack of consideration about 'contaminating evidence' had caused both Anderson and Donovan to come over, carefully distanced apart, identical frowns upon their faces.

"Freak. You've contaminated the body. You've probably obliterated all potential evidence-"

"This is our crime scene. You shouldn't ruin them."

"Idiots. You are all so incredibly stupid. The answer was in his pocket. I think if you search Fredrick's dry cleaners, and the home of Fredrick Taylor, you will have more than enough evidence to play with.

We're off home. As should you two. Your wife's home in two days, isn't she?"

"Why should you care? It's nothing to do with you. Run along."

"Oh, I don't. You should, though. She wouldn't be very happy if she found out, now, would she? Sleeping with a colleague out of loneliness? Easily solved, don't you think? Get a bloody divorce, and find someone else. Not darling Donovan, she's already got a major crush on the boss. Well, see you all next murder."

He gave a sarcastic, airy smile and tried to walk away, only to be stopped by a very angry Donovan.

"You pathetic man, commenting on everyone else because of your own lack of a love life. I guess that's the problem with people like you. Can't be remotely normal. I'm not stupid, Sherlock. Dear Johnny here isn't just a person that's conveniently here. You drag him around with you, to make sure he doesn't meet anyone else."

"Don't be stupid. What evidence do you have, Donovan, rather than your illogical assumptions? Nothing. So keep your mouth shut."

She slapped him hard across the face, and stormed off. Sherlock looked momentarily stunned, then shook it off, and walked in the opposite direction.

Three stunned men gave each other confused looks before rushing to distract themselves with work.

*_* Scene Change *_*

John could hear Sherlock from the living room. The man had been holed up in his bedroom since John had arrived home, and had been making periodic waves of noise since. The word 'freak' was fairly repetitive, along with 'stupid' , 'irritating', and 'acts like a goddamn child'. Clearly Sherlock did not realise it was the pot calling the kettle black.

John did not go and talk to him, for he also clearly remembered what Sally had said. And the occasional bouts of crying alternating with his rants in time with the violin was not inducing confidence in Sherlock's current mental state.

So John left him be. It allowed him to make a phone call without disruptions anyway.

"Lestrade? It's John. Watson. I thought we might have a little chat."

*_*End of part One *_*

A/N- first part over. Please review. Reviews are love.


	2. Chapter 2

The Taming of the Shrews

Act Two- The Solution.

By the time John had gotten off of the phone, himself and Lestrade with a new resolve, Sherlock had stopped making varying amounts of noise, and the flat was strangely silent.

John tentatively pushed at the door of Sherlock's normally unused bedroom, and the sight he found put a warm, fond smile upon his face.

Sherlock had fallen asleep, his eyes puffy and clothes ruffled, leaning against the edge of his bed, still holding his violin under his chin, the bow still clutched tightly in one hand.

His book of music out in front of him, the case beside him. It was quite frankly, adorable, and John thought it would have made a rather sweet picture, but refrained from grabbing his camera in case it woke the detective up.

The book had two pieces of music tucked into it, handwritten, but on the right kind of paper. One, which he had been playing, titled Anderson and Donovan's song. It was screechy and loud, with very long high pitched notes, angry and irritated. The other was half-hidden behind it, and wasn't written by Sherlock. It was edited though, hence why he had written it out himself. He had made little changes to Violin Concerto in D major - by Tchaikovsky. He had also added sections, sweet little melodies that interrupted the piece at climatic, dangerous sounding points.

It was titled as John's song. Because Sherlock was observant, and knew it was John's favourite piece, the only violin song he had learnt the piano part for.

John was so happy, but didn't want to wake the detective. It was anyone's guess when he had last slept properly.

John lifted the two pillows from the bed, and gently tucked them behind Sherlock's back and head. It was the best he could do without moving him.

Then he gently pressed a kiss to the side of his head, lifting the blanket off of the bed and around the sleeping man. As he was tucking the edges around him, a thin, pale hand grabbed hold of his wrist.

"John" He mumbled in his sleep, turning slightly to face to source of warmth.

John didn't have the heart to leave, and so sat beside him, dragging the blanket to cover both of them.

"Good-night, Sherlock."

*_*Sleep*_*

When they John awoke in the morning, a groggy but happy Sherlock was blearily smiling at him. Their arms had wrapped around each other during the night, but it wasn't awkward. It was warm, and they had always been simple in explaining things like that.

"Morning John." A hesitant Sherlock kissed his cheek.

*_* End of scene*_*

Lestrade was far more subtle, as that was what the situation called for. He had always liked the daring, passionate though slightly offensive woman. And he knew that jumping in with declarations a kisses wouldn't work. She was always more realistic, more cautious.

It was probably why she was so offensive. A safety barrier. So anyone who couldn't be bothered to really understand her could fuck off and let the ones that care stay.

She had been like that since forever, but they both knew she had people who would stay. Anderson, who she was actually rather good friends with, they knew how to keep the right amount of separation. And Lestrade, who had cared enough to sleep on her sofa the night she had been cheated on and left by her fiancé.

She should of realised then that she couldn't scare him off.

It was rather simple, their exchange. He was late to work. (which wasn't that uncommon, he pulled late night shifts frequently which only set him back further in the morning. Hey ho, he wasn't the most logical of men.)

This time his lateness was quite deliberate, so he could fix his morning routine.

He walked into her little office area, carrying the files and picking up the reports.

"Morning Sal." He gave her his normal honest smile, taking the files from her hands and adding them to the pile.

"uh, morning." She smiled back, a little hesitantly, and all was fine.

Because he had finally stopped barking 'Donovan'.

Their relationship would take time. But at least he had made that first little step. And it's the littlest steps that count the most.

*_* End of scene *_*

Sherlock and John practically ran into the office, having solved yet another murder. And they knew where to find the killer, who, somehow had managed to flee the country.

"Oh hey, John, Sherlock." Lestrade nodded at them.

"Greg." They answered simultaneously, in that annoying way couples sometimes do.

"Sally. Hey. Could you check up on this for us? He's our guy." John handed her a slip of paper.

"Sure thing. If that's all, you guys can go."

They turned to go, Sherlock sub-consciously reaching for John's hand.

"Bye John. Bye Sherlock." Lestrade tried.

"Bye. See you soon, Greg, Sal."

"Bye John. Bye, Sherlock." Sally mirrored Lestrade.

"Laterz Sally."

Both John and Greg grinned at each other. At least they had both tried.

*_* Epilogue/conclusion thing. *_*

So, Ladies and Gentlemen. What's the lesson? Anyone can be civil, so long as someone teaches them. If you're alone or bitter, you lash out at everyone, so it's really best to help people when you can. Especially if you love them.

'Cause that's just best for everyone.

A/N- There's the end of my little tale. By the way, I would not recommend this as a guide to The Taming of the Shrew, it is only loosely based ;)

Haveacreamteaonme - Uh, I don't really know. I think it would be okay so long as no-one's bothered by it. After all, in the blind banker, there was the woman and her boss.


End file.
